


Water under the Bridge

by therune



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Action, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therune/pseuds/therune
Summary: It is a black market for supervillains held in an underwater secret base. What could go wrong?Spoilers: everything





	Water under the Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> The Batman is basically taken from the Arkham games and readers with a keen eye may spot a reference to DCUO later on.

This was quickly becoming the worst night of Sam's life. As always, he blamed Len. Mostly. He supposed that technically all of them were more or less guilty, after all, they'd agreed to visit a villain black market. All the illegal tech you wanted, fences for stuff you hadn't managed to get rid off, forging connections - it had sounded like a sweet deal. Len had proposed the idea after Luthor had approached him. Sam had been miffed that Len was seen as their leader when it was more of a "whoever has the idea gets to call the shots" operation at the time. You planned the bank job, you got to direct, you cased the museum and formulated a strategy, you got to give the say-so. 

 

The market itself had been exciting and a bit fun, at first, until a fight had broken out between Cheetah and Sinestro. He couldn't have cared less about the outcome, but it distracted everybody's attention away from the attack the JLA had launched at the secret base. Which had been a submarine base. Fuck Luthor, honestly. Sam knew that he liked dramatical locations and impressive designs himself, but putting a ton of supervillains in a sphere where a compromised wall could spell their doom was definetely something he'd consider before hosting an event there.

 

Captain Marvel and Aquaman had come through the top entrance, knocked out Grundy, and hell broke loose. Now there had been chaos - looting, fighting, screaming, then one(and probably more) support pillars broke and the damn thing was starting to collapse. Everyone was scrambling for the exit - or people to fight - and he'd lost sight of Mark and Piper. The rest were holing up in the space underneath a steel staircase. The whole base shook with a decidedly unhealthy oomph to it.   
Digger threw a bomerang to divert attention away from them and Len launched an ice blast. Finally, a big, reflective surface without cracks, bloodsmears or debris lodged into it. Sam readied his gun and activated the portal function. "Gate's open."

"We're not leaving yet," Mick said firmly.   
"I'm on it," JJ said and pulled a thin whistle from a string around his neck. He blew into it, but there was no sound.   
"Kid, what are you doing? It's broken."  
The floor shook and they drew their weapons when a gigantic foot stopped next to their hideout. Giganta! And she was carrying Piper and Mark in her hand? Ah, her eyes glowed green and her face showed a slack expression.  
"Thanks for the lift," Mark said sardonically and floated from her hand, holding Piper by the back of his tunic.  
"The indignity of using a dog whistle to call for me is-"  
"Genius, because only you would be able to hear it and with only a bit of evil intention, knowing our striped friend," Roscoe interrupted, trying to diffuse the tense situation quickly.   
JJ held out his hand for firstbump. "Stripe buddies!"  
Roscoe looked at the hand like JJ was offering him a half-eaten donut. "Quite."

Another vibration tore through the base.  
"Let's go, before the ice cracks apart," Sam said and went through the mirror portal. He programmed his gun with a variety of goals, some more urgent than the other. On his so-called quick contact list was his home mirror, a quick hop to the nearest reflective surface for short trips, and a neutral station. The mirror land was like a labyrinth, only worse. He hadn't tried more than a handful of foreign mirrors yet, but he had found this central basestation. From there he explored and tried to chart the vast bizarre mirror dimension. But there was no time for that now. He opted for his home and stepped out of the floor-length mirror into his apartment.   
Behind him, a hand waved blindly through the surface, and he grabbed Mick's arm.   
Mick gasped for air and looked around confused. Mirror travel always left them disorientated.   
Roscoe and Mark followed with no more dignity. Len came next with a deathgrip on Piper's tunic. "You didn't have to sic Giganta on them!"  
"It was supposed to be a distraction! And it worked! Captain Atom attacked her and not us."  
Next, a pile of jewelry flew through the mirror, then Roy leapt out.   
"Compensation," he explained and grinned.   
And then the mirror behind him cracked with an ugly crunching sound.   
"NO!"

 

"Digger!" JJ yelled and dragged him away from the stairs. Their hide-out had collapsed and Len's ice sheet had splintered into a thousand pieces. Even worse, a shard had hit Digger in the head and he was out cold.   
"Hold on," I'll find us a new mirror," JJ said to the unconscious man, more as a comfort to himself.   
The next thing he noticed was that the lights went out.   
No light, no reflection, no mirror.   
What was worse, was the feeling of water creeping up his legs. 

The fight had halted for a second, and one could almost hear as the priorities in everybody's mind shifted from 'fight' to 'survive' as they began to run. Some screamed and it was hell. There were bursts of light from someone's power or other, and some very insistent people who wouldn't stop punching who or whatever they could hit. JJ hauled Digger over his shoulder in a fireman's carry - the weight was no problem for the airwalkers - and started to ascend. He'd find light when there wasn't water lapping at his ankles. 

In a brisk pace that was probably very unwise in the darkness, he started to move towards the exit. They had been in the second of the two sub-floors, looking to fence a few objects they couldn't turn in Central City when the JLA had attacked. He only needed to get up the stairs, cross the room and go up one of the two narrow staircases until they'd be above sea level. With one hand, he was touching the wall, guiding himself until he felt an opening and realized that he'd reached the door to the next room. The steel staircase had collapsed, but with his walkers, he was at the right height. They had reached the next floor, now he only needed to get to the other end and up the stairs. He clicked his heels together - Piper would have gotten it, but Music Man wasn't here with him - and the soles of his feet shimmered golden. Now he left small golden traces, enough to illuminate his way. He started walking, leaving a golden trail behind. Maybe Sam could use the reflection in the water to get them out. The golden traces shimmered in the shallow water that had reached the next floor. They had to get out before it got higher. Digger was a dead weight on his shoulders. JJ hoped he wasn't too badly hurt. And had they been alone, it wouldn't have been a problem. 

JJ screamed as a hand closed around his ankle and pulled him down into the water.   
"The light, where's your flashlight?" someone demanded in a growl and he felt claws piercing his skin. Through the small pads of light he saw enormous teeth.  
"Let me go, you'll damage them!" he managed to shout, his arms still occupied by Digger.   
He didn't recognize the voice, but he didn't care.   
"Give me your light!" the voice yelled and when a huge hand grabbed for his airwalkers, there was a crunch and the light went out.  
"You broke them!" JJ felt panic rise up. His shoes were broken. No more light, no more airwalking. With an absurdedly delayed reaction, he felt Digger's weight crushing down on him and he fell to his knees.   
It was now completely dark.  
He heard something big move in the water, away from him. At least his mystery attacker had let up when he realized that he'd broken the only light source.   
In him, he felt a cold hand close around his heart. Without his shoes, there was nothing he could do. If he fell now.... He had no one to catch him, he'd fall and break his bones, he'd fall and fall and when he finally reached the ground, he'd-.  
No.   
He still had Digger. He had to get Digger to safety. The man's prone form had rolled off his shoulders, but JJ held his head above the surface. He rose to his feet, weighed down by his wet clothes and Digger. He'd only have to make it through the room and up a staircase. He could do this. The water licked at his knees now.   
With a grunt, he hefted Digger's arm around his own shoulder and moved. Digger weighed a ton, if not two. But he'd only have to go straight forward.   
It was a cruel balance, as with every rising inch of water, Digger became easier to carry, while he grew more and more scared. Only dimly did he realize that the water had crept past his hip.

Then the grund shook and he was sprayed with water, as something shot up from below, ripped through the floor and the floor above him. He fell on one knee, and now his chest was submerged in water, too. He gasped, from the cold and the shock. Then he felt something pull at him. Iron-hot fear curled through him as he thought his attacked had returned, but it was only the current, the water disturbed by whatever had come through the floor.   
Then his left hand bumped into a corner. He had reached the other side!  
Frantically, he dragged his hand along the wall, praying for the stairs. Yes! There was the railing. He walked up, then hauled Digger close. Again, and again until he reached the top. He was out of the water, for now, but the level kept rising. Now for the door. He ran his hand along the wall, the other fisted with a death-grip on Digger's collar.  
His clammy fingers closed around something metal.   
"We're almost out," he promised Digger.   
But he couldn't get the door open. He didn't know if water was pushing it close from the other side, if the frame had been warped, if someone had locked it in a fit of cruelty or if it was a safety procedure. He screamed. 

 

Superman shot out of the villain's base. It was black and ugly, faintly reminiscent of a black fungus growing out of the lake. He was carrying three people who turned out to be a very wet Riddler, Dr Sivana and a very indignant Cheetah.   
"I looked through the lowest floor with my x-ray when I was in there, no one's there anymore. Got out on their own or we pulled them out."  
"Good. Remind me to find out who endangered the strucutal identity of a submarine building and toss them out of an airlock when we're back at the watchtower."  
"Always the charmer, Batman."  
Supermand dropped the villains next to Green Arrow, who put them in handcuffs, all the while the good doctor was cursing up a storm and threatening them with all his might.   
"I need to clear the first sub-floor," Superman announced as he turned to go back.  
"Two floors too much for the man of steel?"  
"Trust Luthor to line the whole thing in lead, I couldn't see a thing."  
"I'll-"  
Superman stopped him with a gesture.   
"I heard someone inside, close to the doors. I'll go and-"  
"Clear the submerged floors, I'll deal with them."  
"But-"  
"Go!"   
Superman didn't hesitate and flew back in the base through the hole he'd ripped in the wall above sea level. The lower floor was clear and on this one-  
Something smashed into him.   
The first sub floor was apparently occupied by Killer Croc. 

Batman threw a grapple to a spire, was pulled through the air and let go, landing in the door. Sometimes he wondered if Luthor hired architects and gave them instructions such as 'no, more spikes, it has to look as if it wants to devour your soul'.   
He activated the nightvision in his lenses. No useful readouts.   
Someone hammered against the door.   
"Stand back, I'll get it open!" he shouted and hoped that the person had heard him. Nightvision was no match for the metal. It looked as if the frame had been warped during the attack or then as the base had more or less collapsed. He reached into his belt for the explosive gel and applied it around the frame and lock.   
While he threw his cape over himself to protect him, he pressed the trigger and an explosion ripped through the wall. He gripped the large steel handle and pulled. The door groaned, but with an abrupt burst, it opened. 

His vision showed him two people. While the computer system displayed their heart rates - one unconscious, one panicked- and provided an x-ray vision of the two people, he felt water touch his boots. It rushed in quickly to fill the new space he had offered it. These people had been submerged to their necks.   
"Please," the first person said and he was taken back by how young he sounded. The young man had a deathgrip on the other, had apparently dragged him for god-knew how long.   
Batman reached out and draped the unconscious person over his shoulder, securing his grip by the back of that person's thighs.   
"Can you hold on?" he asked, as he readied another grapple. Better take the express route outside.   
The young man nodded and placed his arms gingerly around Batman's neck.   
He fired the grapple and he and his cargo were propelled through the air.   
Once he was up top, he fired another line to get them to the shore.   
Most of the villains had been transported off already.   
The landing wasn't graceful, not with him carrying two extra people around. He laid the unconscious man down and the other sprang down to his side instantly.   
"Digger? Come on, wake up."  
There was a loud crash and as he looked to the base, he saw Superman throw Killer Croc out of a new hole in the side.   
“That was the last one, sweeps show that the structure is empty,“ Green Lantern announced then began hauling various villains to waiting police vans.  
Only then did Batman get a good look at his two passengers in the light. 

The unconscious man was Captain Boomerang. The other shaking his shoulder and pleading with him to open his eyes, was the Trickster. Both were Flash's Rogues from Central City. Weird, he hadn't caught sight of the rest.   
"Batman to Martian Manhunter."  
"How can I help, Batman?"  
"Do we have any of the Flash's rogues captured or were they sighted today?"  
"Negative. We assumed they hadn't attended this event."  
"Batman out."

"Trickster," he addressed the man kneeling next to his colleague, "he doesn't appear to have suffered any lingering damage, nothing my scans can pick up."  
The Trickster rose and looked at him.   
He couldn't be more than two or three years older than Dick. He was also completely soaked, dark gold hair plastered to his face, a blue cape clinging to his form.   
"Where are the rest of your crew?"  
"Don't know," the Trickster said defiantly and crossed his arms, trying to appear larger than he really was.   
"I'm supposed to believe that you had an invitation to the black market and only you and Boomerang showed? We both know that's a lie."  
Trickster jutted out his chin and stayed silent.  
"I think they abandoned you, jumped ship at the first moment and left you and your colleague behind when you slowed them down," Batman baited.   
"That's not true!" the Trickster insisted.   
"Why didn't they help you then?"  
"We were cut off. Our exit collapsed and me and Digger took the long route."  
"You dragged him through the base? He would never have done the same."

Maybe it wasn't too late for rehabilitation. The kid proved to have some backbone, and fierce loyalty. Dragging a grown man through a base rapidly filling with water? That took guts. The other supervillains had abandoned all alliances the first chance they had gotten. All apparently except this kid. If he were to see the error of his way...  
"You know nothing. Digger was the last to get out because he wanted to make sure that I got out first. And then the floor collapsed, smashed our exit and we were trapped. Every single one of us would have done the same."  
His lenses supplied him with heartrate information still. Apparently the Trickster believed what he said. 

Before Trickster could answer, Captain Boomerang on the ground groaned as he regained consciousness.  
"Digger!" the Trickster said excitedly as he clasped the other man's arm and pulled him upright.   
"My head! What happened?"   
"The ice was crashed and a shard knocked you out. Don't worry, I got us out. Batman helped," he conceded after a second.  
At the mention of that name, Boomerang sprang into action. With one hand he pulled a boomerang from the bandolier, with the other he pulled sharply on Trickster's wrist and drew him behind his back.   
From unconsciousness to fighting fit in a few seconds. 

"You should seek medical attention, not more violence," Batman said grimly.   
"You alright, Tricks?"  
"Wet, but fine."  
"You have no chance, surrender."  
The Trickster placed a hand over Boomerang's weapon and made him lower it.  
"Maybe he's right, Digger, look around, you're injured, my stuff's on the fritz and we're sopping wet, we're standing in a literal puddle. Just look."  
Captain Boomerang apparently took that as a literal invitation and looked down.   
Then, he grinned.   
"G'day, mate," he said with a mock salute and sank into the ground like it had suddenly vanished.   
Batman darted forward, but Boomerang was gone, and so was Trickster. He looked down, expecting a secret hatch, but found only his own reflection.   
So, the Mirror Master had been involved.

Several hands gripped them and lifted them out of Sam's sink. Their exit mirror was located in Sam's bathroom, above the sink and a shelf full of hair products. JJ sat down on the bathtub rim while Digger remained upright, if swaying a little.   
"What the hell?" Digger said.   
"I second his motion," Roscoe muttered.   
"The base started to collapse, Len's ice shattered, and then the lights went out," JJ explained.   
"Shit," the other Rogues agreed after a second of thinking.   
"Now I know why it took me forever to find you," Sam started and ran his hands through his hair, "what if - I don't wanna imagine what could have been! The mirror just cracked and "  
He began pacing. “I thought that maybe the gun was fried, I didn't know what to do, I even tried the one in here.“  
“You did what you could,“ Piper said and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.   
“I need a drink,“ Sam admitted and left, Piper and Roscoe following him.

 

"Digger took a hit to the head," JJ piped up, "better make sure he's okay."  
When Mark and Roy dragged Digger who insisted that he was fine, away, hopefully in the direction of Sam's first aid kit, JJ felt the tell-tale prickle of someone watching him.   
He looked up and saw Len and Mick staring him down, arms crossed over their chests, drawn up to their full height.   
"I wasn't hit, don't give me that look," he started.   
"Your shoes give off sparks and fizzles," Mick pointed to his ruined gear,   
"adding the state of your clothes to that, I'm guessing submersion in water isn't exactly good for your airwalkers."  
"What the hell happened, kid?" Len growled.   
JJ felt tempted to roll his eyes at that nickname - especially since Len had pretty much called everyone of them 'kid' when he felt like it, even Heat Wave who was at least a couple of months older.  
"What do you think hapened to a supervillain base under the sea being attacked by heroes? Water rushed in, everyone panicked and went topside. I took Digger and was at the top when the water reached the shoes and they fizzed out."  
"We saw you talking to Batman," Mick said impatiently.   
"He may have opened the door for us to escape," JJ conceded.   
Immediately he felt strong hands grab him. Len's fingers tightened on his upper arms, frantically looking for signs of injuries.  
"I'm fine, guys. Just really, really wet and tired as hell. Okay?" He gave them a grin, that judging by their expression and stares did not convince either of them.   
"Get yourself warmed up, put on some clothes. We'll get some food," Mick suggested in a tone that made it clear that it wasn't a suggestion at all.

After they had left, James struggled out of his wet clothes. He showered with the water at the hottest temperture he could tolerate. Only then did he feel the chill that had seemed to stick to his core. Slowly, it got better, he hadn't realized how cold he had felt. Not feeling sorry in the slightest, he took advantage of Sam's extensive collection of hair care products and borrowed one of the fluffy bathrobes that bore the stitched logo of the city's best hotels. After he was dry, Mark knocked on the door, asking if Digger could have a turn. James took his ruined airwalkers and left the bathroom. Sam was drinking in the kitchen, clutching a glass with scotch tight in one hand. Roscoe was sitting at the table, they were talking in low voices.   
“Thanks for the save,“ James started. Feeling ridiculous in the borrowed robe. He wasn't even wearing shoes or socks.   
“I should have done something sooner,“ Sam confessed, “I should have stopped us from going altogether. It's-“  
“No one's fault. You did your best and we're safe now,“ Roscoe interrupted him, sounding sharp, trying to stop Sam's line of thought.   
James transferred his airwalkers to one hand and held out the other for a fistbump.   
“Stripe buddies?“  
“Always.“ Roscoe finally met his fist. It felt silly, but still nice to be included, even if it was a ludicrous club that consisted of all the Rogues wearing stripes. 

“Get your butt in here, you'll catch a cold on the floor like that,“ Piper started what felt like one of his rants and dragged James by the hand towards the living room and onto the couch.   
“sit down and we'll get some food into you. Maybe there's something mindless on the TV, those the cartoon shows you like.“ Piper hated his cartoons.  
He sat down next to James who was burrowing into his warmth. It was a testament to how shaken Piper was that he didn't complain or snark even once. In front of the couch, Roy sat with his knees drawn up to his chin, next to him a pile of jewelry.   
James wanted to congratulate him at first, but he saw the line of Roy's shoulders and thought better.   
“If I... if I hadn't grabbed that stupid piece of junk,“ Roy began, voice a mix of quiet fury and desperation, “if I had been faster, than-“  
“Stop thinking like that,“ Digger snapped. He had come out of the bathroom, also in a fluffy robe and a towel draped over his head.   
“Wasn't anybody's fault. Just cut me in and we're good.“ He gave Roy a shit-eating grin, “50:50?“  
“Hey, I dragged your sorry ass, why don't I get a cut?“ James asked petulantly. He didn't even want any money, but the bickering felt familiar. That was safe territory.   
“30:30:30 then,“ Digger amended graciously.   
“What about the rest?“ Piper asked.   
“What rest?“  
Then there were insults about intellect, about tact, verging off to jabs about personal hygene (I just showered! What the hell do you want?) and finally comedic timing.   
Len and Mick came back to a flat where James was sandwiched between Piper on his right and Sam to his left. Mark was perched on the armrest, making for a rather full couch. Roscoe had brought the chairs from the kitchen and was discussing something with Roy. Digger was spread on the ground surrounded by the rest of Sam's liquor cabinet, but rose quickly when he saw them.  
“Tell me you brought booze!“  
“We brought booze and Chinese,“ Mick answered.  
“I love everybody in this bar!“  
As they sat, eating greasy take-out with chopsticks and one by one switching to the plastic forks; drinking cheap beer and passing round a bottle of Vodka that Sam had hidden not quite well enough, with the others pressed close, breathing and alive, James felt something in his chest give, snapping like a rubber band and then, only then he was able to relax. He sunk deeper into the couch, eyes sliding close. He felt an arm slide around his shoulders, a warm hand placed on his arm. They were whispering, then someone draped a blanket over him. He fell asleep, warm and comfortable and safe.


End file.
